


Raise Your Voice

by suchanoldcliche



Series: OTP: From Curtain Up to Closing Scene. [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: Abusive Parents, Alternate Universe, Childhood Trauma, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Foster Care, Homophobia, Muteness, Physical Abuse, Psychological Trauma, Tony Stark is a mechanic, Xanderony
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-08 04:56:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3196121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suchanoldcliche/pseuds/suchanoldcliche
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Xander was five, he lost his mother to cancer. After that, he was placed into an orphanage, then sent from family to family, for the next ten years. In that time, the boy didn't say a word, leading his social worker to refer to him as "mute" with those families interested in adopting him. Of course, the worst tends to come out of a person when they realise they can get away with something, and since Xander doesn't speak...</p>
<p>**Will update warnings and rating as new chapters are posted.**</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Will they really take care of me?..

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is one of those really heart-wrenching AUs that I've been thinking about writing for a while. Please, please, please proceed with caution. It'll get bad. If you like this, leave a kudos and comment! I love hearing feedback.~

The day he lost his mother was the worst day of his life.

He’d been at school when it happened. He was barely old enough to understand what was happening, but he knew it was bad. A man in a uniform and a woman in a skirt and a warm smile came into his first grade classroom and told him they needed to talk. The teacher looked so sad. He remembers that, and to this day, he’s not sure why. It’s not like she _knew_ his mom, right? And the school year had only just started, so…

He remembers being taken into the guidance counselor’s office and told to sit in one of the chairs. He was given a stuffed giraffe by the kind woman with the eyes that looked like his mom’s, and he held onto it as tight as he could as they told him his mom had died. She’d… fallen asleep. And wasn’t going to wake back up. The only thing that clicked in that moment, having only been five years old at the time, was that he wasn’t going to see his mom again.

Suddenly, the giraffe in his arms didn’t matter, because he was screaming at the top of his lungs about how they were keeping her from him and he needed to see her, needed to be with her, needed to make sure she had water and blankets and cookies, because all of that made her happy and no, stop, she _couldn’t_ be gone. Why would she leave him? He still needed her.

That was the last day Xander spoke, and that was ten years ago.

After the funeral, he was put into an orphanage. All he had was the giraffe the nice lady gave him, and he held that thing close every hour of the day, like it was his lifeline. While the other kids played, he sat by the window and watched cars pass by, getting lost in the blur of reds and whites and yellows and wondering how many of those people had mommies. Did any of them feel as sad as he did? Did any of them feel lost, or was he the only one?

It didn’t take long for Xander to be adopted, but that could be because he was an adorable six-year-old with curly hair and didn’t seem like he’d be much trouble. His first family was a pair who had been together for years, and they seemed friendly enough. The mom, a skinny blonde woman who immediately said she’d be his new mommy upon meeting him, scared him a lot more than the dad, a tall man with a scary face, did. She scared him more because he didn’t want a new mommy. He wanted his old one. He wanted the woman who always laid in bed and smelled like flowers and powder and he wanted to watch Disney movies in Spanish and laugh about burning cookies.

He wanted _her_ , not… not _this_ woman.

This family was just the first in a long list of homes he was moved to. Sometimes, he had to leave because he wasn’t allowed to stay there anymore. Sometimes, Child Protective Services came in and put him back in the system, because it wasn’t a safe environment. Sometimes, a family just… didn’t want him anymore. For ten years, he was moved from home to home, and not once did he say a word. Not to his social worker, not to any of his “parents,” not to _anyone_. At first, they said it was grief. He lost his mother at such a young age… It was to be expected, right?

But then it lasted longer than a few months. And then a year. And people tried everything to get him to say something, but he just… _didn’t_. It was around the time he turned nine that his social worker started to tell his potential families that he was mute, and although he could’ve spoken up and said he wasn’t, he thought it’d be easier if he went along with it.

It’s amazing how cruel people become when they realise they can do despicable things to a person and get away with it. If anything, being told that the boy wouldn’t say a word brought the worst out in people. For almost six years, on top of being uprooted more times than one _should_ be uprooted, Xander was beaten and abused, mostly by the men in the home. Older brothers, bullying him into being more of a “boy” than the kid who loved baking and listened to Whitney Houston. Fathers who didn’t want a “faggot” for a son. Kids at school who didn’t like the new Spanish freak who never said a word. No matter where he went, nowhere felt safe to him. _Nowhere_.

So when he moved into his sixth home in six months around his fifteenth birthday, he didn’t care that it was out in the middle of nowhere. Actually, that was preferred -- maybe he’d be able to walk around and clear his head at night. He used to sneak out at one home, the Williamson’s, a couple years ago, and sit up on the roof. He’d lay on the shingles and stare up at the stars, silently praying his mom couldn’t see what was happening to him. How his spirit was broken. How he wished it would all just… _end_.

The mother seemed nicer than any of the moms he’d had in the ten years he’d been in the system, and he was so grateful to her for that. The moment they met, there was something about the way she carried herself, a strong woman with the warmest eyes in the world, that made him feel comfortable right away. And for the first time since his mom died, he approached his new guardian first, instantly wrapping his arms around her neck and burying his face into her shoulder. He was shaking at the time, both out of sadness and fear, and the moment she hugged him back, he felt relaxed enough to start crying. He’d never been looked at like he was a _person_ , not just another number in a system, or a burden on a family already struggling to keep their heads above water.

But to this woman, he was just a boy. He was a boy this woman wanted to bring into her family.

She knew he was mute, and she’d heard he loved Whitney Houston, so she’d bought him her Greatest Hits album and they played that on the way home. Xander found himself watching her every now and then, smiling to himself at how she sang. She wasn’t the best singer in the world, but she had the passion and the heart to sing anyway, and he admired that. He thought, maybe this home wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe… Maybe he’d actually be _happy_.

Unfortunately, he thought that far too soon.

While the mother, Jamie, was completely fine with Xander’s love of “diva pop” and his little giraffe, the father wasn’t. Not even a little bit. The man’s name was Richard, and he was the scariest man Xander had ever seen. It wasn’t that he had the demeanor of a criminal, like Lee and Thomas and Harry, or that he thought he’d be abusive, like Kaleb and Frank and Ed. It was the calm smile and the evil eyes that were unsettling. His handshake was firm, and Xander immediately wanted to hide away, taking a step back after the shake was over and hugging his giraffe closer to his chest. Jamie’s arm was around his waist and he couldn’t help but hope the contact would show Richard that he’s a good kid, really.

But that look in his eyes didn’t change.

The boy spent the first few months terrified to close his eyes at night, which led to him falling asleep in school. Richard never laid a hand on him, but there was something about the firm grip on his shoulder and the nonchalant way he said, “Why don’t you try jeans instead of those tight pants? I bought you a pair. You don’t want the other kids to judge you, do you?”

What, when they’re all wearing pants down past their bum and showing their underwear? Honestly, Xander would be judged regardless of what he wore. He was the only Spanish kid in the middle of a white rural area. And he didn’t speak.

Every time Richard came close to him, every time he made a calmly worded comment on his hair or his clothes or the fact that he loved helping Jamie in the kitchen, Xander felt his heart sink into his chest, and he’d rush to fix whatever the problem was. He just didn’t want to get hit. Not again.

The day he came home with a permission slip to drive with the drama club into town to see Hairspray, Richard finally cracked.

Xander didn’t scream. He didn’t even cry. The strong fists beat into his chest, his stomach, even his face, and he didn’t react. His eyes were closed and he bit his lip so hard it started bleeding, but he didn’t fight back. That night, he fell asleep with tears frozen in his eyes, his arms wrapped tightly around his bruised torso and his whole body trembling with fear. Richard had been merciless, screaming the most horrific things at him, while Jamie sat in the living room and sipped her tea like nothing was going on. Xander was afraid he’d be beaten to death, but no such luck. No, he was just bruised and terrified, which honestly isn’t any better.

But this, this is where our story begins. This night, when his fears are confirmed, when he feels it can’t get any worse than being assaulted by the man everyone in this god-forsaken town _worships_ , everything changes.


	2. Life on the moon wouldn't feel as far away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Richard has to be one of the most despicable men I've ever written, and that's saying something, 'cause I've written some pretty abusive jerkfaces in the past. I really wanna murder this guy, though. Just so you all know.
> 
> Hope you like the new chapter! It's lighter than the last, which is good.
> 
> Chapter title is taken from the song "Life On The Moon" by David Cook.~

His body aches as he lowers himself into the hot water, the scent of lavender mixed with the vanilla of the bubbles causing the boy to feel just a little bit more relaxed than he had been when he woke up. Thank the god that doesn't exist that Jamie stepped in and told Richard she needed Xander home from school today, because honestly, he has no idea how he'd be able to get through an entire day with his body hurting like this. He leans back against the back of the tub and stares up at the ceiling, the silence in the room only broken when he shifts in the water.

Last night... God, that was the most terrifying night of his life. The way Richard dragged him off into his room, shoved him at the wall... He had the eyes of the devil and Xander had been so sure the man would've killed him---

"Xander?"

The boy turns his head to the door, but he doesn't answer her. He carefully lifts himself out of the water, grabbing his towel and wrapping it around his waist before opening the door.

Jamie smiles at him, her hand covering her phone as she says, "I'm sorry to bother you, hunny, but Stella's on the phone. Do you wanna join me and the girls for lunch this afternoon? I know Richard said he wanted to take you to the shop with him this evening -- gotta get the car fixed, you know -- but... Stella really misses you. Says it's been too long since she's seen you and, hold on," she puts the phone to her ear again, "what was it you'd said? ... Ah, right." She covers the receiver as she beams. "She misses your hair. That's it. Just your hair."

Xander can't help but smile as he leans forward to kiss her on the forehead. The amount of love he feels for this woman is almost overwhelming to him. She's an angel. She really, really is. He nods, causing her to smile even brighter.

"Awesome. We'll leave here in an hour, then. Go on, finish your bath."

When you live the kind of life Xander's lived, you learn to find value in little things, like in bubble baths and lunches with Jamie and her friends. Her friends _adore_ him, and for some unknown reason, they're all understanding of his situation and actually seem... supportive. Which is _so_ not something he's used to, but he always feels lucky to go to lunch with them. It's probably the thing about this place that he loves the most.

They gossip and talk about their jobs and their husbands. One of the women, Susan, loves to tell Xander all about her son, Luke. Luke is a lot like Xander, apparently. He loves musicals and lights up like a Christmas tree when he listens to certain female artists. She says he reminds her a lot of her son, which could be why she loved him right away. Stella thinks his hair is the cutest thing in the world, and she loves playing with it. (Stella's a very, um... handsy kind of woman. He doesn't mind it, but it always makes him feel really shy.)

And then there's Martha. Oh, Martha. That woman is basically a goddess. She's the Superintendent of Schools in this county, and she's gotta be one of the most inspiring people Xander's ever met. Best thing about her is that she believes in equality, and that's a really strong, really courageous thing for this part of the country. But her strength and confidence gives Xander hope, and one of these days, he'll write her a letter and tell her how grateful he is that people like her exist.

Today, he's nervous to go. He's nervous because he has bruises on his face and he can hardly keep one of his eyes open and he looks like he's an absolute mess. But Jamie seems to have thought of that, because once he changes into an outfit he knows Jamie won't get mad at him for wearing, she ushers her into her bedroom and sits him down in front of her vanity. She talks to him about his grades and how proud she is of him, and how she can't wait to see him play the piano at the recital, and how she loves the fact that he's such a sweet boy. She tells him she's always wanted a son, but she's infertile and Richard doesn't have the patience for babies, and she convinced him a year ago to let her adopt a child.

She took one look at Xander's file and knew he belonged in her family.

Which is really not the thing to say to this boy, especially not while trying to put makeup on his face to cover things up, because now he's crying and reaching forward to hug her around her waist. She smiles down at him, setting the foundation on the vanity before crouching to look him in the eye. "Hey," she murmurs, holding his face in her hands as she wipes his tears away with her thumbs. "We're gonna be okay. I promise. I know he gets... angry sometimes, but... He does love you."

Yeah. When he wears baggy jeans and tries to watch football with him. Richard doesn't like Xander for who he is. He's made that clear.

"Come on," she says, kissing him on the forehead before getting to her feet. "We have to go. Do you want me to give you a muscle relaxer for your pain? I don't want you to hurt while we walk. It's not far from here."

The boy shakes his head, then looks to his feet as he stands up. He'd rather feel it, honestly. Because if he doesn't, he's going to start feeling comfortable again, and comfort is disarming. He'd rather be reminded of how much of a burden he is.

The walk takes about ten minutes, and when they reach the table, both Stella and Susan come over to him and hug him. He does his best not to wince, not to let the pain show on his face, but it doesn't work. Jamie covers it up by saying he's been working out more often, trying to get into shape for track and field, and that makes both women beam proudly at him.

It's moments like these where he wishes these lunches could last forever, but all good things must come to an end.

 

\- - -

"I'm home~!" Richard chimes, walking into the house with his briefcase in hand, a bag in the other, and a smile on his face. "Where's the kid? I have something for him."

Xander's heart feels like it's stopped as he puts his book down, staring at the door to his bedroom with fear in his eyes. He's home. That means he's gonna drag Xander to the shop, and gosh, that is the _last_ thing he wants to do. He doesn't even like cars, and the only reason he even wants to go with Xander is because he wants him to be more masculine. Or something. The boy takes a deep, shuddering breath, then slides off his bed and runs a hand over the back of his neck, bare feet not making a sound as he walks into the common area.

When Richard sees him, his smile brightens and he holds the bag out for him. "One of the guys at work gave me this to give to you today. Go on, open it! I've been dying to see what you think."

...Who is this guy and what has he done with Xander's foster dad? The boy just blinks as he takes the paper bag, staring up at the man before looking down. When he sees what's inside, he covers his mouth with his free hand, tears filling his eyes before he looks up at Richard with a questioning expression.

"Told him about your thing with giraffes," he explains, looking down at his briefcase as he opens it. "I dunno, I think we'd gotten into some kind of conversation about our kids and the weird quirks they've got. He thought every young man should have a planner, so... since your birthday's coming up, he got you one."

Xander walks to the dining room table and sets the bag down, then reaches inside and takes the planner out. It's black leather, and on the cover of it, a golden giraffe's neck and head is engraved into it. It's one of the sweetest, most beautiful things Richard's ever done for him, and although his gut is telling him not to trust the gesture, his heart feels lighter now. Maybe... Maybe Richard could love him after all.

"Maybe now you can get yourself a job. Who knows! Maybe Stark'll want to hire you."

Aaaaaand there's the catch. Xander doesn't let his expression waver as he presses the fingers of his left hand to his lips and moves his arm forward, signing his thanks before running into his room to put it with his stuffed animal. He'll use it every single day.

"Our appointment's in twenty minutes, by the way!" he calls, following after Xander. The boy tries to calm himself down as the man approaches him, hovering in the doorway with his arms crossed and his shoulder leaning against the door frame. "You about ready to go?"

The boy nods, sitting down on the edge of his bed as he grabs his converse. Sliding them on, he can almost _feel_ the disapproving look Richard's giving him. Oh God.

"Dressed like _that_?"

"Calm down, Rick," Jamie says, putting her hand on his shoulder before passing by and walking over to Xander. "He looks cute. The girls loved him today." She sits beside him on the bed and wraps her arm around his back, the contact immediately helping the boy relax, though not by much.

"Oh, he went to one of those lunches again, huh?"

That tone sends an unpleasant shiver down his spine. Xander keeps his head down as he stands, adjusting his vest nervously before rubbing the side of his neck. Jamie's immediately standing beside him. "Yes," she says, "he did. You should've seen Susan's face when she saw him."

"I can only imagine," he muses, rolling his eyes as he unfolds his arms. "Come on, kid. I know you're a spic, but if you're gonna be associated with me, you're not gonna be late to things." Without waiting for a response, he turns and walks away, leaving Xander in tears and Jamie standing there with a dumbfounded expression.

"I... cannot believe he just called you that." She turns to him with a frown, lifting her hands to hold his face. "Hey," she whispers, kissing him on the forehead before pulling back to look at him. "You might like it there. Just... give him a chance."

Xander nods meekly, leaning forward to wrap his arms around her. He doesn't want to go. He _really_ doesn't want to go.

But he doesn't exactly have a choice, does he?

 

\- - -

Xander sits in the waiting room of the shop with his book in his hands, fingers tapping nervously on the cover of it as he stares down into his lap. He doesn't want to be here. Richard's just gonna come back and try to get him to be buddies with the mechanic so that _maybe_ Xander would be a little more of the man Richard wants him to be. And that's not fair, because his mom always said that boys could do whatever they wanted. His mom is the one who taught him to bake, who encouraged him to have his own taste in things, who told him to stand up for himself.

Look at him now. Great job he's doing of that, huh?

He sighs quietly, ducking his head as he covers his face in his hands. He hates this. He hates being left alone and he hates Richard and he just wants to go home and---

"What's the matter, kid? Girlfriend dumped you?"

Xander blinks, lowering his hands as he lifts his head to see if that strange voice was talking to _him_. When he sees a man standing by the counter, clad in a navy blue uniform that looks like an adult version of a onesie, he feels his breath get caught in his throat. He notices the name tag and swallows -- Tony. So _this_ is the mechanic.

"Cat got your tongue?"

His eyes flicker back up to the man's face. His facial hair is... distinctive. Dirty, but distinctive. His hair is an absolute _mess_ , and Xander can't help but think that even if he put a ridiculous amount of gel in it, he wouldn't be able to tame it. Actually, come to think of it, this guy doesn't seem like the type who _can_ be tamed. He just has that kind of aura about him. Of course, the most striking part of him are his eyes. There's a mischievous gleam in them, almost like he's a jester or something, and Xander can't help but smile at him.

"Ah, so you've met the kid."

Both Xander and Tony look to Richard as he walks in, and god, that look on his face makes Xander want to hide. Tony chuckles under his breath, flashing the boy a cheeky smile as he walks behind the register, tossing a greasy towel onto his shoulder after wiping his hands on it. "This one's yours?" he asks, looking to the man who'd come in. "He's a man of few words, isn't he?"

"He's mute," Richard says simply. "Doesn't say a word. No matter what."

"Really?" Tony blinks, glancing back to Xander with a curious look. Xander knows staring is rude, knows he should look away, but he doesn't. He just stares back at him, shrugging nonchalantly as if to say, "Yeah, sorta. It's no big deal, though."

"Yeah. He's the one the wife adopted last year."

"Ohhh. Okay." As Tony rings Richard up, they talk quietly amongst themselves, and Xander takes that as his cue to go back to reading his book. Except he can't really focus on it, because that guy's eyes are still in his head, and he's not sure if they were brown or hazel or gold. Maybe a combination of all three?

"Hey. Kid."

Oh gosh, did he space out again? When Xander lifts his head, Tony's looking at him and Richard is nowhere in sight. Um.

"Daddy-O wants you to stay here while he runs a few errands. You wanna come in the back with me?"

Does he? Not really, but this is what he came here for. Xander sighs, nodding his head reluctantly as he gets to his feet. This should be interesting...


End file.
